


we have paved these streets (with moments of defeat)

by lokium



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Schönberg/Boublil, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: 100 themes based, Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Multi, POV Second Person, Rule 63, also not sure exactly what's happening with tense but i'm hoping it makes sense, first published fic for les mis pls be kind, or with person but again it probably makes sense
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-04-05
Updated: 2013-05-23
Packaged: 2017-12-07 14:05:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/749352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lokium/pseuds/lokium
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>1 - introduction<br/>"The newcomer’s obvious cynicism, patronising view of the cause (and drunkenness, although Enjolras will account for the possibility that it was circumstantial, not the norm) chafes with Enjolras’ driven, idealistic nature, and she wonders why anyone had thought it was a good idea to bring her in."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. i'm the narrator (and this is just the prologue)

**Author's Note:**

> a series of connected drabbles based on one of the many versions of the 100 themes meme, modern au, genderswap, not sure of rating but read at your own discretion  
> tags placed ahead of publishing, sorry if you were expecting a load of pairings/characters
> 
> title from bastille's 'these streets'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 1 - introduction

Grantaire is the last to join their friendship group within Les Amis l’ABC. From the get-go, Enjolras dislikes her. The newcomer’s obvious cynicism, patronising view of the cause (and drunkenness, although Enjolras will account for the possibility that it was circumstantial, not the norm) chafes with Enjolras’ driven, idealistic nature, and she wonders why anyone had thought it was a good idea to bring her in. Emile, Grantaire’s best friend, tries to excuse the behaviour by saying that she’s a good artist and can help them with banners and posters, and Courtenné, who’d originally suggested Grantaire come along, reasons that Enjolras needs someone to challenge her.

(Enjolras can see the merit of having someone who disagrees with her; that way, she can hone her arguments and foresee the opposition she’ll get, but she won’t say that to anyone. She dislikes Grantaire, regardless of her use, and anyway, she hates that she no longer has everyone at their meetings on her side, but she won’t say that to anyone either.)

Actually, pretty much from the actual moment they met, Enjolras was doomed to be forever infuriated by Grantaire. When it got to her name in the circle of introduction, Enjolras had nodded, respectfully, like you’d expect a normal person to do, but apparently because she hadn’t greeted the newcomer with an abundance of joy and enthusiasm, Grantaire had raised a sardonic eyebrow and said, sotto voce to Courtenné beside her, ‘am I not good enough for her?’ loudly enough for Enjolras to know she was meant to hear, and the tone conveyed the promise of attitude to be given, and disrespect for her leadership. Enjolras couldn’t help but bristle at the comment, and her annoyance must have shown on her face, because Grantaire leered (who even does that, aside from arrogant male college students?) and then proceeded to blow a kiss.

Needless to say, Enjolras ignored her for the entire meeting.


	2. through the crowd (i was crying out)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 3 - light

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (written from grantaire's point of view but can be anyone's if you like?)

It’s silly, really, to compare a person to light. After all, light is merely photons, intangible and beautiful and sometimes blinding, but then again, it’s quite an apt metaphor. Enjolras, you sometimes think, is like the sun. Brilliant, life-giving, essential, perhaps a little too bright but you’re willing to forgive that because, well. You know how important it – or she – is. But at the same time, that fiery ball of hydrogen and helium, that proud leader, is far-off, unattainable, and sometimes too much to handle. Sometimes you need a break, to sit in the shade, to escape her presence, because you can’t always cope.

If Enjolras were a man, you’d liken her to Apollo (although she’d object to the connotations it carries – after all, Apollo was the god of colonisation), bright, bringing truth and healing. Sometimes you think it’s a shame that there are no goddesses readily comparable to Enjolras, but maybe that’s for the best; after all, Enjolras shouldn’t be compared to anything. She stands apart from everything and everyone else, fierce and strong and full of passion always directed outwards. Like the sun, she appears warm, sometimes too much so, but she can also be cold; she seems to show no affection to those closest to her, and you’ve never seen her intimate with anyone else of any gender – not that you’re shaming her for not having sex, but Enjolras is extremely good-looking, and it seems a shame almost for her not to use it to her advantage. Perhaps she is more divine than you think, perhaps if she loved anyone she would be cast down from the heavens, perhaps she would be scorned for opening her heart. Perhaps that is wiser, regardless of deific status.

But really, such a bright light should not be hid under a bushel, or even behind a glass. It needs to shine.


	3. it's the sun in your eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 78 - drink

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> from grantaire's point of view (who else would it be)

Contrary to popular belief, you are perfectly capable of being sober. Okay, you’ll admit, you don’t like it – the clarity it brings is too sharp, too bright, like a canvas scratched by the paintbrushes that have been used upon it, like a light being switched on right by your eyes.

The thing about being drunk is that all the edges become blurred. You don’t have to focus any more (or you can’t) and things become that much easier. And you don’t have to face Enjolras being her usual spirited self (though obviously in the personality sense; she never drinks), always striving towards some new goal, and the cutting, disdainful looks don’t hurt as much. (But it’s only slightly, the pain is dulled only a little, and you have to get really rather hammered to forget how much she hates you.)

Emile’s the only one you tell any of this to, and the only time you talk about it is when at least one of you is extremely inebriated (try saying that whilst in said state, you dare), and it’s most likely going to be you. That being said, you usually try to get Emile at least a little bit drunk if you’re going to talk about _feelings_ because really, any chance of him not remembering is one you’ll gladly take. Not because you feel awkward about him knowing about your feelings (well, maybe a bit) but more because you know how close he is with Courtenné, and you don’t trust Courtenné to keep silent if Emile does spill anything. Because really, most of your woes are about Enjolras, and if she knew, then you may as well jump of a tall building.

The thing is, drinking simultaneously solves and exacerbates the problem. It works like this: the drunker you get, the less you notice Enjolras’ disapproving glances. But the drunker you get, the more frequently they come, and they get increasingly deep and intense the more alcohol you consume.

(There’s also the fact that at some point, your liver will probably give out. But really, you can’t see yourself living past about thirty, so it doesn’t matter that much to you anyway.)

(And you know that’s a bad attitude to take, but you’ve never been one to actually give a shit about what other people tell you is right or wrong, so why should you start now? Exactly.)

(Except Enjolras’ disdain for you is really fucking painful, and part of you wants to just stop drinking altogether, try and actually build a friendship (or something more) between the two of you, and be a better person.

The other part of you, which is perhaps not as big but really fucking insistent, tells you to shut up, keep drinking, drown out all the hurt and disappointment, and give the fuck up with life.

The latter part? It usually wins.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a couple of notes:  
> 1\. i know i suck at keeping a consistent person (and tense oh god) but im hoping it's clear enough whats going on  
> 2\. these themes arent in order, and neither is the timeline (that was phrased badly but you know what i mean), but again it should be clear enough. also i'll probably go back and shuffle things about if theyre too confusing so yeah  
> 3\. this isnt very progressed yet but im trying to keep the 63 people as much like their original counterparts as i possibly can, so not much has changed given their differing gender. also im hoping the names are easy enough to guess - courtenné is courfeyrac, emile is éponine, i think thats all that have come up so far?  
> 4\. i welcome any feedback like seriously guys anything


	4. i know it's sad that i never gave a damn about the weather (but it never gave a damn about me)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 37 - see

Life is very dependent on people’s perceptions. Take Enjolras, for example. Many see her as the fighter for those who cannot fight, the voice of the mute, the saviour of those who cannot save themselves. But some see her as arrogant, privileged, unworthy to stand for the poor and helpless. After all, she’s from a rich family, she’s white, cisgender, hasn’t stated that she’s not heterosexual, and has never dealt with the kinds of abuse and suffering that those she claims to help have. The only factor not putting her in the highest band of ‘people not qualified to speak for others’ is that she’s female, and that’s not enough to make her able to represent them.

Enjolras isn’t the only member of Les Amis l’ABC who’s viewed in many lights by the public. Courtenné is called a slut by many, because she sleeps with a lot of people – some have called her a ‘serial monogamist’, which at least acknowledges the fact that she is always faithful to whomever she’s dating. Others, you included, are supportive of her lifestyle, saying that she should date and fuck who she wants, because it’s her body (and really, that’s the most sensible thing you’ve heard said in relation to her).

Not much is said about Combefette. To be fair, she doesn’t say much, and is in more of a managerial position than an activist. However, her speeches are generally considered to be fair, well-measured, and logical. Some who don’t like her say they’re weak, that she’s weak, and that she doesn’t feel strongly enough about them, which, to be fair, is definitely better than the worst Enjolras has gotten for hers. Some also say that Combefette is too tomboyish, that she should act like a woman.

And that’s nothing compared to what they say about Berdine, much less Brienne. Berdine doesn’t have it so such an extent; she doesn’t present as masculinely as Brienne, and she has a more ‘womanlike’ figure, and anyway, if someone says something she doesn’t like, she’ll beat them up. (That’s something all of your group love about her, even though she’ll hurt you if you say it to her face.) Brienne, however, gets the worst of it. She’s routinely called ‘tranny’ and ‘shemale’, and regardless of the fact that she’s not actually transgender, Enjolras is sent into a fit of anger every time the words are levelled at Brienne, or at anyone. (This has led to private speculation within the group, but you respect her privacy and if she has reasons for hating insults for trans* people, then that’s cool too.) You can see why people may think she is, however; she’s tall, about six and a quarter foot, and quite bulky, a mixture of curve and muscle (though nobody seems to notice the curve), and bald, which media outlets haven’t caught onto yet. Brienne isn’t overly self-conscious about it, but there are times when she looks at Marienne’s long toffee-brown hair, or Cosé’s wavy blonde locks (which you’re actually quite jealous of) and seems rather wistful, but as you always joke, it’s convenient not having to wash it, and she has the option of varying her hairstyles and colours on a day-to-day basis.

Marienne and Cosé, as the only public couple, are more or less left alone. There are, of course, disparaging comments as to Cosé’s femininity (mostly because of his hair, but really, it’s a thing of beauty, everyone agrees), and therefore snide remarks that Marienne could be a closeted lesbian, but you’ve all had the accusation of homosexuality thrown at your group – after all, most of you are women, and the two that aren’t are in love with Marienne. (This isn’t counting Musichet, but he isn’t exactly part of your group, and you try to keep him away from the rallies because you really like Le Musain, and sincerely don’t want it to be endangered by anything happening to its owner.)

Jehanne is criticised for being too feminine and upholding the stereotype of women wearing long flowing dresses and writing poetry and braiding their hair with flowers, but really, when people are going to hate you either way, it’s best to do what makes you happy. And if dresses and words and flowers make Jehanne happy, then you all encourage her to go for it. (And really, she totally rocks that style.)

Emile has mostly escaped the public’s heckling. There are always going to be whispers and questions as to which one of the group he might be sleeping with, but since he’s apparently the only single guy in a group of mostly girls, that’s to be expected. There’s plenty of speculation as to his lifestyle, as he looks a little like an anime character (the ‘shy’ fringe coupled with two-day stubble is a horribly typecast style), but it’s all rather tame.

Feuille is notable only for her relative age – she’s a few years older than most of you – but aside from that, she slips by under the radar. Joli is only ever noticed when she needs to whip out her mad medical skills, but she rarely speaks at rallies, if at all, and dislikes being in large groups of people (for fear of catching some horrific disease) so tries to keep away from the crowd for the most part.

And you? Well, there’s the obvious – drunk (well, duh), slag (you don’t sleep with _that_ many people), bitch (because you don’t pull your punches) – and you tend to ignore it. There are also the obligatory ‘is she romantically involved with any of the group’ that people tend to wonder aloud, but the only time you pay attention to those are when it’s about Enjolras, and even then it’s only to laugh at them (and yourself).

In short, you all tend to ignore what the public says about your personal lives, and you (well, minus you) just get on with trying to save the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> in case it wasnt clear, these are the names i chose for the 63 counterparts  
> combeferre - combefette  
> courfeyrac - courtenné  
> bossuet - brienne (yes, that was intentional and my reason for it)  
> bahorel - berdine (means 'bear' or something to do with bears)  
> marius - marienne  
> cosette - cosé  
> jehan - jehanne (jean > jeanne)  
> éponine - emile  
> feuilly - feuille  
> joly - joli  
> musichetta - musichet


	5. we marched and we sang, we all became friends as we learned how to fight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 16 – spit

It starts quite simply, really. Or rather, it escalates quickly for the action that was taken.

You’re at a rally with the others, something you tend not to do, but Brienne is there and Musichet is at the café, so you’d decided to woman up, take a few different preventative medications, and go with Brienne, Berdine and Jehanne in Berdine’s beat-up old bright green Skoda (which you all tease her mercilessly for – not the colour or the age, but the fact that it’s a _Skoda_ , Berdine, really?) and spend most of the journey ignoring Jehanne wax poetic (ha ha) about some author or another to the eldest of the group, who actually seems interested given she puts on such a tough act, whilst Brienne puts her head in your lap so you play with her synthetic hair.

All in all, things start off quite well. Enjolras speaks, the crowd is enraptured, Grantaire sighs like a courtly lover and looks immensely sad at times when she thinks nobody can see her (but you tend to watch the group, especially those in unrequited love), Combefette, Courtenné and Berdine hand out flyers, Marienne and Cosé act like a two-week-old couple while Emile glances at them occasionally, and Jehanne stays near to you, occasionally joining in the shouts from the crowd. You do too, getting a little caught up in the excitement, and exactly what happens isn’t immediately clear. All you know for certain is that a group of guys had gotten too close to Enjolras’ makeshift lectern, and then all hell broke loose.

You see Grantaire in the middle of a fight, and just before Jehanne pulls you away by your wrist, you catch her taking down three men at least twice her age and weight in a brutal succession of movements, unafraid to fight dirty (evident in a ruthless kick to the crotch that makes your eyes water slightly, and you don’t even have a dick). You look around as Jehanne drags you away from the melee, struggling to catch a glimpse of the others. You see Enjolras take a hit to the face, reel for a moment, then come back snarling at whoever hit her. You see Berdine making full use of her bony elbows and putting them in what appear to be very painful places. You see Emile near Courtenné, intercepting someone just about to go for her with a neat punch to the face whilst she kicks someone in the shin with her ridiculously (conveniently) high heels. You just manage to make sure Marienne is okay; she and Cosé are at the edge of the rally, Cosé with a red mark on his jaw, visible even from where you are, and you can tell it’s going to form a hell of a bruise.

You can’t, however, see Brienne. You feel yourself beginning to panic, and you yell her name, barely audible over the din, and then a large hand catches your wrist then moves to your hand, and you hold it so tightly it must be painful for her. Jehanne, Brienne and you manage to extricate yourselves from the mess, and you’re soon joined by Marienne and Cosé, the latter of whom asks for your medical assistance concerning his face. You tell him the verdict, then turn back to the crowd to see if you can spot any of the others.

Eventually, you end up back together – Feuille, having been at the edge of the crowd when the fighting started, escapes unscathed, and gets to you first; Emile appears a minute later, bruised and furious but mostly unhurt, Courtenné just behind him and in a similar state; Berdine gets bodily thrown out of the riot not far from where you’re standing, and Jehanne has to go over and stop her from going back in. There’s a tense period where nobody knows where Enjolras or Grantaire are, and you’re about to propose that you find a higher vantage point to look for them when they emerge together, both bloody-faced, bright-eyed and with their hair wild around their faces. Enjolras’ lips are streaked with russet from what you can tell immediately is a bloodied nose and possibly a split lip, and Grantaire isn’t in much better condition – one of her eyes is red and you’re pretty certain she’ll have a hell of a shiner tomorrow.

Enjolras, every inch the leader, straightens her back, clenches her teeth, then announces, “I think we’ll call it a draw.”

Everyone laughs, and despite the fact that people are still fighting, that more of you are injured than not, that your rally has been ruined – despite all that, you go back to your respective cars with lifted spirits. The group ends up at the flat above Le Musain, and Musichet is upon Brienne and yourself at once, fluttering anxiously, however much you both insist that you’re fine.

Once everyone settles down and you and Combefette have used your medical prowess to assure those who are going to be fine of this (and those who aren’t are given ice packs and/or TCP-soaked cloths), Jehanne speaks up.

“So what actually happened?” she asks, and you hear murmurs of agreement.

Enjolras glances at Grantaire, then looks away, and you notice her cheeks redden slightly beneath the bruises. “Some people didn’t like what we were doing. You know, the usual misogynistic wankers come to tell us to get back into the kitchen and that. I ignored them, they continued, I continued ignoring them, and one of them,” Enjolras pauses, making a somewhat disgusted face, “spat on me.”

There are noises of similar sentiment throughout the group, and Musichet makes a sympathetic sort of hum.

“Please tell me you punched him,” Courtenné says.

“I didn’t, sadly, but, uh,” Enjolras looks at Grantaire again, who apparently takes pity on her.

“I did,” she announces proudly, before her face darkens. “Fucking arsehole. Called me a bitch, y’know. And tried to pull out my hair.”

You see Emile look between the two, and sigh slightly. You realise that he knows (of course he knows, he’s Grantaire’s best friend), and you idly wonder who else does. You resolve to talk to Musichet about it later, he’s good with relationships – after all, he was the one to make you and Brienne realise it wasn’t just him you were head over heels for.

“The important thing is, he didn’t succeed,” Berdine says, effectively derailing your train of thought. “And I saw you taking some people down, that was fuckin’ awesome.”

“Pretty satisfying, too.” Grantaire smirks. You hear Emile mutter something that sounds suspiciously like ‘I hope they all end up in prison’ aside to Courtenné, who huffs a laugh, and replies with what may well be ‘no women there, I guess they’ll have to make do,’ which makes Emile snort.

“Glad you’re finding this funny,” Grantaire says lightly, and somehow the usual atmosphere resumes; Emile and Grantaire bickering with Courtenné egging them on, Marienne and Cosé talking quietly, Jehanne and Berdine returning to their conversation about literature, Feuille and Enjolras debating about something or another, Combefette rising to boil some water for tea, and Brienne leaning against you. Musichet sits at your feet, head tipped back to rest on the chair between your legs, one hand in Brienne’s and the other loosely encircling your bare ankle, and you can’t help but feel content.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a note about "misogynistic wankers", specifically the 'wankers' part: im british, born and bred. ive mentally set this in england, around where i live, and put the characters with english accents etc., so there may be some language that isnt familiar to americans. uh i hope thats not too off-putting?  
> also sorry for not updating for a while, i wrote this chapter (during a power cut, seriously) a while ago but forgot about it ehehe


End file.
